


The Alstor Excavation

by JetBlackKobold



Series: Black Flan [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A bit lovecraftian, Action Sequence/Canon Combat, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Body Horror, Daemons are Involved, Emotional Response to Horror, Gen, Horror, Illustrations, It's pretty dark, Self-Sacrifice, bad things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetBlackKobold/pseuds/JetBlackKobold
Summary: Massive floodlights at the rear of the main cavern illuminated a half-gutted ruin. Ancient stone brickwork and sunken, collapsed halls. Holes that marked uncovered corridors riddled the back wall. Ruined buildings that had stood forgotten in the cave for eons huddled before the darkened passages like gatekeepers… or gravestones. The Empire appropriated many of these for their own purposes. A sheltered structure to one side of a vast open courtyard contained neat stacks of sorted and catalogued artifacts. The main generator sat in the center of the space, modified for underground use. Cables snaked away from the infernal pylon into nearby buildings and the excavated ruin. Somewhere far above was the cavern ceiling, but none of the lights below reached it, giving the impression of starless, eternal night.The Bros are intent on doing as much damage to the Empire as they can, but the subterranean complex north of the Slough is an Imperial Base best left unbusted. A fight through a hoard of experimental MTs is just the opening act. An unknown horror, dredged out of the darkened ruins by Imperial hands, awaits an opportunity to deliver devastation upon any unfortunate enough to find it.
Series: Black Flan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000659
Kudos: 6





	1. Burning the Black

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, yes, this writer has no idea what they are doing, so very sorry if the tags, warnings, or rating aren't 100% right. Those were my best guesses. I wrote this during a serious selection of horror inspired games and stories (largely brought about by my dearest sister), so I thought it would be a fitting upload for Halloween. As a note, the embedded illustrations were all done by me.
> 
> I try to avoid spoilers, but I don't want to blindside anyone with unpleasantness they would rather avoid reading. If you know yourself and know you've got a good tolerance for body horror and the grotesque, go right on ahead!
> 
> Otherwise, exercise caution, and take note of the following: Bad things happen (mostly to Ignis) and there's a severe tonal shift in chapter 2. There's not much violence (in-line with canon), and I tried not to be especially graphic/explicit in any descriptions, but it gets gross/grotesque, along with emotional anguish in chapter 3. I let my teenage sister read this, but she's a fan of horror, so... yeah take that with a grain of salt.

Ignis secured a good lead, though it resulted in Prompto composing a short nonsensical verse for their latest "Bust-A-Base" mission. Noctis pointed out that he couldn't in good conscience steal the tune from an old cartoon for his terrible purposes, but his appeals went unheeded. Now he had a decades old theme song stuck in his head. Just great.

The base was located north of the Alstor Slough and differed from most other Imperial bases throughout Duscae. Built halfway into the base of a cliff, the rearmost sections occupied a series of extensive subterranean chambers. The odd position and lack of traffic rendered it somewhat hidden from the outside. Its purpose remained unknown; although, initial investigation suggested it served as a secure stockpile, as its awkward location would have made it difficult to impose control over a region with.

They waited for the cover of darkness to approach and gaining entry without being noticed was tricky business. Noctis made his way over the wall by warping up the cliff-face a short distance away, then let the other three in behind him. Their goal was the same as on other missions. They slipped unseen through corridors and between reinforced warehouses to the heart of the base. There they would disable the Magitek generators supplying power to the MTs and inflict as much damage and mayhem as possible on the way out. Occasionally the four heard faint echoes of quiet conversation within certain buildings as the base's human occupants went about their business.  
  
Prompto tapped Noctis on the shoulder and pointed out an inactive line of MTs. He didn't speak, but his face conveyed his thoughts: _Those are different. Scary different_ . Many of the MTs garrisoned here had unusual and experimental designs. One fearsome-looking machine possessed a striking variation on humanoid sensibilities, with twice as many limbs and heads as were standard. It resembled a bizarre combination of a spider, a butterfly, and a man.  
  
Noct nodded to Ignis, making sure the tactician saw them before they moved on towards the generator.

⊶⊰⊚⊱⊷

Massive floodlights at the rear of the main cavern illuminated a half-gutted ruin. Ancient stone brickwork and sunken, collapsed halls. Holes that marked uncovered corridors riddled the back wall. Ruined buildings that had stood forgotten in the cave for eons huddled before the darkened passages like gatekeepers… or gravestones.

The Empire had appropriated and updated many of these for their own purposes. A sheltered structure to one side of a vast open courtyard contained neat stacks of sorted and catalogued crates and artifacts. The main generator sat in the center of the space. It appeared modified for underground use. Massive cables snaked away from the infernal pylon into nearby buildings and the excavated ruin. Somewhere far above was the cavern ceiling, but none of the lights below reached it, giving the impression of starless, eternal night.  
  
Gladio exhaled hard through his nose for want of whistling at the impressive vista. Behind him Ignis whispered, "If only we had more time, we might learn what the Empire is doing in these ruins. Perhaps we should have planned for reconnaissance instead."

"Nothing good," Noctis said. It was the only judgement necessary. "Let's put a stop to it."

Ignis nodded, peering around the space between their hiding place and the generator. "It's far too open. We will have to rely on speed. If we can disable the generator, the MTs will afterwards put up little resistance, so that should be the focus of our attack. Noct, you lead us in with a warp-strike to the device, me and Gladio will be right behind you. Prompto can cover us from here. The MTs that do attack will come from that direction, behind us."

Prompto eyed up the path to the generator. There were a lot of blind-spots from this position. "I should follow you guys; I won't be able to see much from here," he countered uncertainty. Ignis reassessed. While he was thinking Prompto pointed up to a catwalk that supported the floodlights. "I could see everything from up there."

"Alright, in that case, you take a head start on Noct and get as close to the base of those stairs as you can without being seen. Once you're close Noct will move and we will follow."

"Got it." Prompto nodded, and looked to Noctis, who stood frozen with a lazy expression, as if not paying attention. A faint blue light swirled about his fingers as he made considerations of what weapon to make the opening move with.

"Right," he whispered. "Ready when you are."  
  
"Get a move on, kid," rumbled Gladio with a smile.

Prompto nodded and darted out of their hiding place, keeping low along a shadowed wall. Noctis watched his progress then moved out himself, starting towards the generator at a sprint before hurling his selected sword at it. His body followed in a rush of light and energy, gathering power across the intervening space until he slammed against the embedded blade. He didn't bother to pull the weapon free, letting it fade and calling to hand a massive broadsword for a heavy follow-up attack. A siren brayed, and a series of mechanical clicks and clatters rolled forth under the high alarm a moment later. He heard Ignis's voice cut in, giving Gladio instructions in response to new variables. Then, his Shield reached his side, and above them Prompto's guns started their rhythm. Ignis slipped off, crashing into the side of the newly awakened Magitek line before retreating to cover and making his way towards Gladio and Noctis. The MTs tried to follow, but he was quick, and Prompto's onslaught staggered them.

Noctis focused on disassembling the generator while Gladio defended him from the MTs that had rushed in. They hit hard, and there were a lot of them. Ignis dashed across their rear lines and thinned their numbers with swift strikes; his daggers flashed like lightning. He was as Ramuh, if the Fulgurian were an assassin. Glass exploded around Prompto as the floodlights burst behind him. The steady beat of his guns dropped out of their performance for a moment as he fled and took cover from the retaliatory fire that MTs aimed his way.

Dismayed voices rose from the buildings behind them, shouts of alarm and barked orders as the human officers struggled to get a handle on matters. Their reactions lagged behind the automatic MT response.

The generator flagged, flickered, and moaned. Its internals sounded eerily animal. Noctis pried open the outer hull, and entire sections of it were no longer functional, but it seemed to have a remarkable number of fail-safes and redundancies. "Ignis!" Noctis called as he turned away from the generator, "Tear this thing apart!" There were fewer enemies now, and less need for Ignis to handle crowd-control. Maybe he would have better luck with the generator.

"On my way!" Ignis fell back from the enemy, guarding his retreat with a polearm until he had enough of an opening to sprint back to the generator. Noctis took up position at Gladio's side. It would have been ideal to have all of them focus down the machine, as Ignis recommended from the start, but the MT response had been quick; it forced them to defend the point instead.

The bros dispatched the standard MT troops with practiced ease. The MTs with unusual designs were a challenge, if only because the four had never seen their behaviors before. A hardy, armored variety weathered repeated heavy blows without slowing, only staggering before Gladio's impressive stopping power. Those required teamwork to take down; Gladio or Noctis provided openings that the other three had to follow through on.

A heavy rumbling and a groan of metal reverberated through the cavern. Along the roads between two buildings loped two impressive and unique-looking Magitek Armors at frightful speed. They had the usual bipedal, hunched-shoulder silhouette of other large MT units, but their material and gait spoke of an animal or biomechanical nature. "We got trouble!" Gladio shouted. 

"What the hell are those!" echoed Prompto's voice from above. No one bothered to answer him.

Whatever they were, they had firepower and a substantial disregard for allied units. They—or their operators—were not so reckless as to fire into clusters of their allies or the generator, but never hesitated to take shots at Noctis and Gladio if there were MTs between their guns or claws and the Lucian nobles.

The battle wore the four intruders thin. Its relentless flow provided few opportunities to make use of the curatives tucked away in the Inventory. "Prompto, put everything you've got into that generator!" Gladio called. The gunner's bullets helped thin, mire, and pin down MTs, but the small fry could no longer mount effective attacks against Noctis and Gladio with the big-guns focused on them. Better for him to help Iggy wreck the main target before they were overwhelmed.

"Uh-huh!" Prompto grunted an affirmative, but he doubted anyone heard it. When he ceased covering the MT soldiers, however, they sprang up and made to attack Ignis. The few left were all new types, and they seemed clever and quick. No good. He wasn't sure he was going to make a dent in the infernal machine anyway and returned his attention to driving back Ignis's attackers.

Then, the entire catwalk exploded. Maybe someone called out a warning that one of the two monstrous MT Armors had aimed something nasty his way. If they had, he hadn't heard it.

"Prompto!" Noctis screamed as the catwalk crashed down. Half the lights fell with it, throwing the battlefield into sudden, disorienting half-darkness. Noctis made a crude attempt to disengage, swinging around and throwing his weapon back towards where Prompto had been. Something heavy and hot hit him as he warped and he landed in a breathless tumble.

"I have it! Retreat!" Ignis called. In the same moment the remaining floodlights died along with the alarm. Gladio cleaved through two MT units before realizing that they were no longer fighting. The generator wasn't just giving them strength, they couldn't function without it. He wasted no more time and sprinted in the direction Noctis had gone. He couldn't see the prince through the darkness and twisted metal.

Dim red back-up lights sprang to life, but they provided no improvement to overall visibility. A new alarm sounded, not nearly as loud but just as insistent. A firm, prerecorded voice rolled over the din. "Unverified containment breach due to loss of power. Initiating emergency low-power lockdown procedures. All personnel must evacuate to-"

The voice, alarm, and red lights died. A few moments later the red lights returned to life, but the alarm and voice did not. The floor shook as one of the large MT Armors fell over in the darkness. A smashing sound preceded a hurried voice calling out. Mechanical parts complained and shifted, everything echoed. A smaller thud, then the sound of retreating boots. The pilots of the MT Armors fled.

"Noct!" Ignis called, carefully picking his way over and around the twisted metal of the catwalk. "Noct! Prompto!" A moment later Ignis was illuminated; he'd turned on his light. Gladio let his greatsword vanish and did the same.

A groan alerted the two of them to Noctis's position, and Ignis ran straight for him, weaving nimbly through debris. He was graceful as always; although, Gladio could see he'd been injured. He kept his left hand pressed against the far right side of his chest. Ignis could take care of himself and Noct.

"Hey! Prompto! Quit napping and answer us!" Gladio shouted into the ruin. A stranger might think his words callus, but they were the best he had. Any others and he might have to grapple with the idea that Prompto was badly hurt or dead. Prompto didn't have time for him to have those thoughts.

Gladio saw him, a tuft of blond hair reflected in the light. The rest of him lie obscured behind, or under, the remains of the floodlights. Gladio ran towards him, staggering as he slowed, bleeding from a dozen cuts and at least two new holes. He couldn't yet count his bruises; adrenaline still held that pain at bay. He knelt beside the gunner and reached under the twisted frame to feel for him. He pressed his whole hand against his neck in a haphazard attempt to feel for life. He was pretty sure the pulse he felt was Prompto's and not his. He turned to call back to Ignis and Noctis, "Over here!" They came running.

"Prompto!" Noctis shouted, sliding to a stop. His voice roused the gunner somewhat, and Prompto slurred something indistinguishable in response.

"It appears he's pinned here, by his right leg." Ignis said moving back and forth around the space, peering through the crumpled scaffolding.

Gladio and Noctis carefully pushed through and lifted the debris enough for Ignis to crawl under it and drag Prompto free. Once done, he assessed the damage and summoned to hand one of their more potent potions, holding Prompto still as he applied it.

"We better get moving, quick." said Gladio after utilizing a potion of his own.

"Agreed, that second alarm did not bode well, and there's a fair chance there are demons in those ruins that are eager to expand their reach," Ignis said as he pulled Prompto to his feet.

"W-Who turned out the lights?" Prompto asked, still dazed. Ignis propelled him alongside the others with one hand.

"Uh- we did?" Noct looked back at him over his shoulder. "Maybe you should turn on yours."

"Oh, yeah right." Prompto groped for his light and flicked it on.

The undulating buzz of a more localized alarm sounded from the darkness ahead and the grinding of metal followed.

"That can't be good."

"Shut up and run!"

They broke into a sprint down the road between two buildings, ahead were flashing lights and a rapidly closing door. The power died again partway through the door's closure and the heavy metal door plummeted. The surrounding concrete shuddered and cracked. The sealed gate was shrouded in dust.

"Shit," breathed Noctis, no one else said anything.

"Oh," Prompto breathed, breaking the silence. "Oh man." Gladio's eyes flicked to the smaller man. Prompto fidgeted, set alight with sudden nervous energy. The pitch of his voice raised in panic as he spoke, "There's… there's gotta be another way out, right?" 

"Certainly," answered Ignis, with all the confidence in the world. It was soothing, like a firm hand placed over Prompto's fluttering heart. He wasn't sure if he believed it or not, but at least it sounded like he had a plan. Ignis continued, "if not, we can see what tools there are at hand and take the wall down," and lent Prompto a smile. The blonde's eyes were still a bit wide. "But let us look around first." He said in the most reassuring voice he could manage. 

"Look for what, tools? Won't need any. We'll just use Gladio's head," quipped Noctis. Ignis had soothed, but Noct did a better job of cheering Prompto, getting him to utter a short, but genuine, laugh. Gladio grumbled at the teasing as he grinned. His next words were firm instructions to focus their efforts.

The four searched the silent complex for an alternate escape route. No active MTs nor human officers remained. Noctis warped onto the roofs of the buildings to try to get a wider view while Gladio stalked the pathways between the buildings and fences searching for any doors gaps, passages, or weak-points in the wall that separated the rearmost section of the complex from the rest. He kept one eye on the prince's light as it bobbed and jumped about overhead. Ignis and Prompto slipped into the buildings. Most of the doors were locked, but not all of them, and some of the locked doors could be coaxed open with the application of a little force or cleverness.

In the largest building, they could hear the quiet buzz of electricity through the walls, and some of the emergency lights still functioned. Prompto frowned. "Huh. It's like whatever they were using for backup power wasn't good enough." 

"Do you think there might be some way to reroute what power there is to one of the doors?" Ignis asked. The idea seemed plausible to his mind, but he was far from an expert on this sort of thing.

"Maybe…" Prompto thought for a moment. "If like… if everything is only kinda half-working, the security systems might be messed up enough to find a way around the lockdown that was supposed to happen? But it didn't seem like any of the other buildings had power, we might only be able to turn things on or off in here."

"This building does extend past where the dividing wall is, if I recall correctly. It may be enough to get us out."

Prompto ducked into a small control room off to the side. The main space seemed mostly storage and equipment. Rows of what looked to be servers stood like gravestones outside the control room. "Great! Yeah, I think I can do this!" Prompto called from within.

"Right, I'll go fetch the others."

The three of them explored the building while Prompto worked on redirecting power and imposing his will on the Imperial system. Beyond the first main room was a small maze of layered hallways and catwalks. It appeared to be a larger space broken up by temporary walls. Doors were locked, but trivial before a determined Gladio. Noctis took it upon himself to break as much furniture as possible, scattering documents and equipment. He would have broken more, if he could be sure they wouldn't need it intact to power the doors.

It didn't take long to find the door they needed. It dominated a thick concrete divide—one of the few real walls in the building—and was large enough for a car to pass through without much trouble. A smaller room stood open to one side of the gate. Inside, two chairs and a shattered mug lay on the floor. A thick, reinforced window provided a limited view into the next area, expansive and dim and lit only by the sinister red emergency lights. Along the right wall were tall dark cylinders, behind each stretched a nest of pipes and wire. Three metal walkways hung over the main floor. In the center was a massive rectangular impression, about ten meters wide and maybe half that across. None could guess at how deep it was; in the dark, the bottom was concealed by shadows. Surrounding it were smaller, circular holes, like pits. A thick lid of reinforced glass covered the recesses and half a dozen or so pipes ran into them. A door on the far side mirrored the one on theirs.

"The hell kind of place is this?" rumbled Gladio, peering through the window into the darkened room.

"A foreboding one," Ignis said, leaning around him to look. "But that door is sure to lead us out."

"Think it's safe?" asked Noctis.

"No. Almost certainly not, but I'm afraid we may not have any other options." Ignis hummed to himself thoughtfully. What had that voice said? Containment breach… whatever the Empire was doing here was dangerous, and no doubt the sealed doors were there for good reason, but… "It's likely the lockdown procedure is a precaution in the event of a power-outage. It doesn't appear that there's any damage inside that room. This area is important enough to warrant the lion's share of backup power, so we can hope that there are other failsafes in place as well, but we shouldn't linger."

Prompto caught up with them as Ignis spoke, having followed the path of destruction and their voices. "I. Have. The POWAH!" he announced, as he had planned to when he caught up to them, but his victory was cooled somewhat by the sight of the room beyond. The scene withered him, as if the layout itself were designed to pull the steel from his spine.

"Excellent, can you supply it to the doors on either end of this- Prompto?" Ignis stopped at the look on their friend's face—pale and faraway.

"Oh, uh sorry. Yeah. I can do that." Prompto came back the next instant with a fragile smile. "Uhm… I guess that's the only way out, huh?" He pressed past the others to squint into the room. "Creeeepy." He chuckled nervously.

Prompto turned to the nearby consoles to work out how to turn on the power for the doors. He'd already done most of the work in the main control room, so it wouldn't take long. Ignis leaned over to help him with a few suggestions. Neither of them were experts on Imperial tech, but Ignis had good instincts, and Prompto was talented with machines.

"What you suppose is in that hole?" Gladio posed to Noctis.

"Dunno, but I hope we don't have to find out."

The lights in the room brightened, and above each door additional yellow-orange lights started flashing. Prompto hit a button and the doors on each side started to rise. "Aaaaand open!"

"Seriously?" Noctis glanced his way. Prompto responded with a grin and a chuckle. "Ugh. Let's go."

The four of them hurried out and ducked under the still-rising door. Gladio took the lead with Noctis behind him and Prompto in the rear. They dashed towards the far side, not wanting to take any chances with their escape. Their feet hammered across the walkway, and the metal replied with resounding, shuddering echoes. A sudden high-pitched noise shrieked from the right side of the room. To Ignis, it sounded like the whistle of a teapot. A moment later there was a heavy, hollow thud below them as something impacted the glass. It was impossible to tell what it had been; there was only unyielding darkness below. Whatever it was, it struck a powerful blow, enough to send a spiderweb of cracks across the glass surface of three of the panels.

It distracted the four of them from the far more significant disaster unfolding at the right side of the room, as some device attached to one of the large cylinders suffered a cascade of unknowable failures and exploded.


	2. Saturation of Shadows

Prompto felt a sensation of deja vu. Or maybe irony? He wasn't sure; he got those kinds of things mixed up sometimes. Whatever it was he would have to add 'metal catwalks' to his list of absurd phobias and triggers. Ahead of him the walkway was falling. Something had exploded and somewhere above something else had swung free, crashed into the walkway's suspension rods, then the walkway, then the glass of the rectangular chamber below them. It all happened in an instant, but he could see it so clearly. That happened sometimes, a knack honed into a skill that was really only useful for capturing embarrassing pictures of his friends mid-battle—or badass ones if he was feeling generous. He could see these things but wasn't fast enough to react in a way that ever mattered.

He threw his weight backwards, or maybe the buckling of the floor threw him. He couldn't see Gladio past the flaming, sparking debris that tumbled down from the ceiling. Ignis lunged forward, grabbing the rail with one hand and his prince with the other. He hauled Noctis back as the walkway slammed through the shattered glass covering above the pit. The railing bent out and robbed Ignis of its support. He could keep his balance or his hold of the prince, so when Noctis pitched sideways and rolled off the edge, Ignis went with him.

⊶⊰⊚⊱⊷

The pit was not what it seemed. It was not its depth that had rendered it so dark, but its contents. It was a shallow pool of black, viscous fluid. The smell was nauseating, thick and sweet, like fruit with one side caved in, full of rot and mold. There were swirling hints of something dizzying and unplaceable within the scent and a subtle, sharp undertone of blood. Noctis fell in on one side and sank in about halfway. Ignis was upright, and the fluid came up to just below his ribs. He could feel solid ground under his feet but wasn't quite touching it. Warped metal and flaming remnants lay scattered around them in the pool. Ignis didn't spare a thought for just how bad the situation was. There was no telling what horror might be in the pool, or what the vile fluid even was. He had to get Noctis out.

The prince struggled to right himself; the collapse left him tattered and dazed and bleeding from a head wound. Gladio stood on the other side of the destroyed walkway. The larger man half slid and half climbed down the slope towards the pool to help. Ignis pulled Noct upright and started working to propel him to the other side of the pool, but it was difficult, the fluid seemed to grab and stick and—

_Oh gods._

"Gladio! Stay back! Don't touch it!" Ignis shouted, and the other man slowed, he opened his mouth to question Ignis's instructions, then froze and swore.

Ropy tendrils of the tarry fluid worked their way around Noctis and Ignis. With drawing horror Ignis realized he could feel it soaking into his skin, climbing up his body as if by capillary action, except it wasn't. It was alive. The fluid pulsed and pushed out, the surface of it swelled like an incoming tide near the edge of the pool where Gladio perched. Ignis could almost feel the surface tension as if it were his own skin. He couldn't move.

Somewhere behind him something broke and the rest of the walkway fell onto the glass covering. Prompto rolled across the glass with a scream. He knew the surface would break and he would tumble into the blackness, but it held. Only the panels weakened by the initial strike from below shattered during the fall. He scrambled for the other side, but creeping vines of ooze blocked his progress. It spread like a slime mold over the glass and concrete.

"Prompto!" Gladio called. "Grab one of those!" He pointed, then clarified as Prompto searched frantically. "That big pole to your right!" It was the remains of the support rods. Gladio kept talking as Prompto ran for them. "Push it out to them so they can grab on." Gladio didn't wait to see if Prompto managed, already searching for something on his side that would allow him to help free his charge and friends.

Ignis grabbed at the rod, but the tar pulled against him; it would be difficult to climb out this way. He wrapped a hand around it and looked towards Noctis. The sight made him cry out in dismay. Noct seemed to be unconscious. Thick veins of black fluid crept up his face and into his hairline. Around it his skin discolored, darkened like a bruise. Those pulsing black veins looked…

"It's some kind of daemon!" Ignis called, he wasn't sure if anyone heard him, because at the same moment a portion of the slime surged into his mouth and down his throat. He gagged and choked. The taste was much as the smell, but worse, and it quickly mixed with the acrid flavor of his own vomit. Panic took him. He thrashed and struggled and tried to close his mouth and lips, all to no avail. It poured into him. It first pooled heavily in his stomach, then spread out like icy tendrils from there.

 _Noct_. He thought or said or tried to comprehend. He was going to die. They were both going to die.

Blinding light filled reality; Prompto fired a Starshell. The slime reacted violently to the light. Its surface contracted. Shimmering and vile luminescence pulsed within, purples and greens. A thick haze erupted from the surface like black smoke. Ignis screamed. The pain wasn't his. His _voice_ wasn't his. The light burned, stabbed at his eyes, and shone clarity into his mind. The daemonic substance reeled, stunned.

He could feel its claws in his brain, alive and full of alien intention. It was neither a singular thing nor a collective. It wanted and needed, somehow incomplete or hungry. It would consume him and Noctis and everything it could reach. Ignis experienced the pain of the thing as it tried to recoil from the light, its anger as it sought to lash out at the source, the tension of its formless mass at the edges of the pool. He felt the reaching tendrils it had sent off in search of his friends and knew its terrible intentions. "Stop," he moaned in a helpless daze. Weakened and reeling in the light, it acquiesced, retreating into the pool. Hope exploded like fireworks in Ignis's heart.

 _Release Noct, leave him be._ Ignis commanded, not sure if he'd spoken aloud or not. It was harder. He felt he could almost physically pull at the substance which had infiltrated the prince's body. It all remained connected. Dimly he realized that, as he could feel the daemonic mass, so too could he perceive Noctis's body. The pain in his head, the cold daggers seeping in through the wound there, the burning of his lungs from lack of air.

It would not relinquish what it had. Ignis bared his teeth in a bestial expression of frustration. _Me, you have me. Let him go_. It responded to that, but not enough. It wanted Noctis too. The light of Prompto's flare was fading slowly. Somewhere above the pool he and Gladio were frantic in their work to reach their trapped allies and avoid the trap themselves. Ignis knew his advantage would fade with the light. He needed to stay in control of the thing. He needed it to listen, to heed him, to be powerless to deny him. Noct was suffocating. He could feel his king's body being twisted inside.

Ignis's own body strained, but that wasn't important.

No, it was important, wasn't it? Ignis knew the need of the thing.

In a wild bid to appeal to—and seize control of—the daemonic entity, he loosened his jaw, leaned forward into the muck, and swallowed. It answered eagerly, flowing into his mouth, filling his throat. Ignis drank it in. He heard Gladio's voice suffused with horror and confusion.

 _Heed me. Take me. Let Noctis go_. It did so haltingly, reluctantly. Tendrils uncoiled around him, black sludge retracted and seeped back out of his mouth and nose. It wasn't enough. Not yet. If the light faded he would lose his hold on it. Ignis tried to move. He had command of his arms again, but everything hurt. He pushed Noct upwards, trying to insure he would not drown.

There was a horrible, sickening pressure in his abdomen. He didn't want to think about it. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he was going to die, but the thing would still not fully release Noctis. Ignis pulled at the daemonic mass, at its alien will. "You are mine." It sank into his skin. "We will not have Noct." This time, he had spoken aloud; although, he was not sure how, as he was still pulling at the slime with his mouth. He scarcely recognized his voice, but it had been his. He was sure of it.

There was panicked screaming above him, but Ignis had it now. It would let Noct go. It was unwinding through him, pulling away until he couldn't feel the prince anymore. Now it was just him and the black sludge that was pressing into him. He wished that he could be as certain that whatever was happening would kill him as he had been moments ago. His body felt wrong. His stomach was painfully distended, unreasonably so. _I can't_. Ignis shook himself. He couldn't fight it; he still needed to get Noct free.

In the waning light Ignis forced his will upon the daemon, using it to propel the prince to the other side of the pool. It rolled unpleasantly, and if Ignis were not embedded in the thick slime he might have fallen from a wash of vertigo. "Gladio! Take him, quickly!"

Ignis looked up to the far side of the pool. Gladio had moved away from it in his search for a solution, but returned now. His expression was haunting and unlike anything Ignis had ever seen. His eyes were wide with fear and horror. It did not stop him from doing his duty, however, and he climbed down to the pool to pull the unconscious prince free. Ignis felt his hands and arms momentarily submerged in the ooze, but the daemon was now focused entirely on Ignis and did not grab at them as Gladio dragged Noct away. Good. That was good. He saw Gladio's brow knit together. He saw his name formed in his lips, but he couldn't quite hear it.

He shuddered and groaned. His breath blew bubbles in the sludge. He felt himself swollen, swelling, and fought back screams. He could feel the fabric of his clothes stretched tight. He felt it when seams gave out. _No. No, I can't. It's too much_. Above him Gladio was calling for Prompto, who had frozen, unable to move at the edge of black-stained concrete that was still undulating, and too out of his mind to find another way to go. It wouldn't hurt him; Ignis wouldn't allow it, but fear prevented his crossing.

Ignis forced the fluid back into the pool, clearing Prompto's path. He reeled from the effort, his vision being eaten away by alternating white and black spots. Gladio was yelling at Prompto now, trying to get him to move. Ignis added his own voice, "Prompto, cross to the other side!"

There was just so much of it, an endless tide. Ignis felt it would have been more sensible to try to drink the Cygillan dry. That was nonsense though. Everything was. Impossible. Nonsense. Ignis felt the chain of his necklace cutting into his throat. Cut. Pain. Then it broke. More things broke. His flesh split open, and it was a relief to just have the pressure gone. Choked sobs shook whatever was left of his body.

He looked up, surprised he could still see. Prompto was screaming at Gladio, gesturing wildly. He could hear his voice but the words were muffed, as if they were all underwater. Gladio wasn't looking at either of them, but he answered Prompto with a tone of absolute anguish. Prompto looked back at Ignis, the whites of his eyes visible all the way around. He stared, mouth agape, lips drawn back in horror and disgust. He was pale, but for bright red eyes and nose. He looked sick. Tears were streaming down his face.

He summoned his gun to hand and aimed at Ignis, shaking. Behind him Gladio was carrying Noct through the door.

"Yes! Do it, Prompto! Please!" Ignis called.

Prompto recoiled as if struck, uttering a sharp cry. The gun vanished from his hand. He shook his head. Ignis saw the words on his lips. "No." Ignis strained to make out his voice. He wanted to hear him. He had to. It was sure to be the last time.

"Gods, Iggy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't. I can't."

Ignis relaxed. Prompto's words and the torment in them hurt, but he took what little comfort the sound of his friend's voice could offer. The ruined remains of his body continued to soak up the daemonic fluid, even as all recognizable traces of his anatomy failed and came undone. It was an intensely unpleasant, if not outright painful sensation. It might not have mattered if Prompto had pulled the trigger after all.

"It's alright." Ignis said. He could hear his own voice, it was horrifically distorted, but decipherable. "It's alright." He wanted to apologize for even asking, for encouraging it instead of letting Prompto do as he would. He knew Prompto would feel he had let him down. That he had failed him. There was so much to say, but his voice was failing him and some terrible madness was gnawing at the edges of reality. "Take care of Noct for me."

"Yes! Yes. I promise! Don't worry. I promise!" The words left Prompto like a blast from a shotgun, and he could do no more. He turned and fled.

A short time later the doors slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: After reading the first (presentable) draft of this, my husband turned to me and said "this is like, just you-specific nightmare fuel." An apt description, most of the horror elements are tailored to the exact things that I personally find the most horrifying and disturbing. Like, I don't know if I could read or watch something like this if I wasn't the one who wrote or animated it. Writing this kind of stuff is good though, I feel like the control helps to exercise and exorcise the demons a bit.


	3. Flight in Fog

Gladiolus couldn't quite remember when or how they got outside. He'd been sprinting through the dark with Prompto on his heels, but wasn't sure if that was a dream or not. He only returned to reality when he noticed the darkness of the enclosed military base replaced with the light of the cloudless night. It reminded him to be on guard, there'd been other people inside, and the three of them were much too vulnerable now.

No one disturbed them or tried to stop them. They all abandoned this place as fast as possible. It made sense, the alarm and call for evacuation… no one would dare hesitate if they knew what waited in that room. They got the hell out.

He heard Prompto fall to the ground behind him and to his right. He was screaming. Some were incoherent words, others were just wild guttural cries, like a mortally wounded beast. He screamed Ignis's name.

Gladio thought he might just do the same. He couldn't. It was night. The prince was injured. Prompto was unhinged. It wouldn't do for some opportunistic daemon to step in and kill them now, not after what Ignis had done for them. He shifted his hold on Noctis to free one hand for a moment, then reached down and grabbed the fallen gunman by the back of his vest, pulling him to his feet and pushing him forward.

"We gotta move, Prompto! We can't stop now!" Gods, why did his voice sound so broken? There wasn't time for that.

"…skin was black and it was fff-faaaa-it-he-he—" Prompto stumbled forward, screamed, and threw up.

Gladio roared in frustration. He had to or he might join Prompto heaving on the ground. If he was angry, he wouldn't have to think about what just happened. He held that anger and frustration like a drowning man clutching at flotsam. If he didn't, they might all be lost at sea. "Dammit, Prompto, I can't carry you both!" He pulled him up again. "You've got to stay on your feet! We aren't safe here!" Prompto trembled, gasping and groaning as if he was the one who'd just—

He shook his head, as if he might dislodge the thought and send it spiraling out of his ears to never haunt him again. He shook Prompto next, repeating his name until he looked at him. "Stay on your feet and hold on to me."

Somehow they made it through those craggy woods without being attacked by daemons or the Empire. Back in the open, Gladio could see the roads lit by street lamps and the relative safety of the Alstor Coernix rest stop. They'd paid for the caravan already and stayed there until dark allowed them to approach that damned, cursed military installation. Gladio's arms and chest burned from the exertion of carrying the prince so far and at such a grueling pace.

Prompto hadn't stopped freaking out. He alternated between silence, sobbing, screaming, and near-incoherent muttering at random intervals. He surely alerted everything for miles around of their presence and passing. He hadn't fallen again, however. Sometimes he clung to Gladio, but he didn't falter.

Gladio suspected it would be dawn soon. Maybe things would be better under the light of the sun. "Nearly there, Prompto." Gladio said, not sure if the other man heard or comprehended him, but still feeling like he needed to say something. 

Noctis stirred in his arms as they neared the station. The light from the lamps may have roused him. His breathing changed, muscles grew tense, then he jerked and gasped, causing Gladio to stumble. He barely managed to not drop him.

Noctis staggered to his feet grabbing at his Shield's shirt. A layer of oily blackness still coated much of his body and soaked his clothes. Fabric clung to his skin, and his hair stuck to his face. A mixture of black fluid and sweat coated Gladio's arms and soaked his shirt. Noctis looked around them desperately, and Prompto crashed into Gladio's back, not having noticed they'd stopped.

"W-where's Ignis?" he asked, his words slurred. Gladio opened his mouth, but his brain provided nothing useful. Prompto made a terrible, strangled sound.

Noctis's attention sharpened at the lack of answer. "Where's Ignis!" He shouted, his voice came out harsh and rasp.

"Gone." Gladio answered.

Prompto choked, grabbing at his face and falling to his knees. "I couldn't do it," he whimpered. "He was… he-he…"

"What do you mean, gone?!" Noctis pulled at Gladio's shirt, as if to shake the man.

Gladio didn't know. He avoided looking at Ignis at all in those final moments, for most of it really. He knew if he looked, he might not have been able to tear his eyes away from the unfolding horror. He might have stood, transfixed and helpless, as Prompto had. He'd needed to do something, to find some way to stop it. To save them. But he didn't do a damn thing. Ignis did. Gladio couldn't comprehend how or at what cost, but Ignis got Noctis out of that hellish pit.

"Dead," said Gladio. Beside them Prompto bit back a scream. Blood pooled in the crease between his chin and lower lip.

"No," Noctis breathed, "no, he… he wasn't… he wasn't dead."

Ignis couldn't have survived whatever happened in that pit. The daemon destroyed him. "Noct," he started.

"He wasn't dead!" Noctis was shouting again. "I-I felt him! He was here-just…" Noctis seemed dazed again, then shook his head as if to clear it, stumbling as the world spun.

"He wasn't dead. He spoke… his voice was…" Prompto said, his voice rough from screaming and soggy from tears. "He asked me to… he…"

"We have to go back," asserted Noctis, starting to move past Gladio. The Shield grabbed hold of his arms.

"We can't."

"Like hell—"

"We're beat to shit, Noct, and Ignis. Is. Gone." The words burned Gladio's heart. Gone. Dead. He felt sick. He wanted to lie down in the gravel and see if he couldn't outdo Prompto and scream loud enough to wake up all of Lestallum. He couldn't. Noctis needed him. Prompto needed him. "There isn't anything to go back for."

"He's not dead! He's not dead, and you left him! You abandoned him to that—that thing!" Noctis snarled. Prompto made a miserable noise.

"Don't you dare!" Gladio snapped, the burning grief sparking and igniting into fury. His grip on Noct tightened, and he shook the smaller man hard. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"You left him behind!"

"There wasn't anything we could do for him! He sacrificed everything to get you out, and I got you out!"

"Bullshit! We have to go back! We need to help him!"

"He fucking exploded, Noct!" Gladio felt a wave of nausea roll through him with the words. For a moment he thought he might join Prompto in the gravel after all. He wished he hadn't said it aloud. He realized why Prompto's insane gibbering terminated and trailed off the way it did. Saying it aloud was so much worse.

Prompto retched, but there wasn't anything left in his guts.

Silence settled around them like a heavy curtain. The lamplights buzzed faintly. Noctis's breath heaved ragged and uneven. Prompto choked out quiet sobs like hiccups. Gladio could hear his own heart, blood rushing through his ears.

Noctis slid to the ground, and Gladio let him fall from his grasp. Gladio looked at his hands, pitch-black from residue from that thing. He wondered if it was dangerous. Probably wasn't good. They needed to wash it off. It was still a few moments before he spoke.

"We need to wash this shit off. Probably toxic." Toxic wasn't Gladio's word. He'd usually just roll along calling things poisonous, since that got the point across. He could hear it in Ignis's voice though, and Ignis always liked to correct him about it. The black crap was probably poisonous too. It smelled like death.

Gladio dragged himself towards the caravan. He felt like someone had settled a lead yoke around his shoulders. He didn't want to punish the caravan shower too much, so he grabbed the hose outside first. He sprayed down his arms and stripped off his shirt before giving up and just rinsing his entire body. The cold water made his muscles twitch, but its sharpness cleared his head a little. He turned and called Noct over. He didn't think the prince would come right away, but he did. He had a faraway look and moved with a jerky shuffling gait.

He hosed Noct down with all his clothes still on. He ran the water over him until the runoff was mostly clear. Prompto hadn't moved from his place on the ground, rocking gently, pulled as tightly against himself as was possible. He had screamed at Gladio, trying to get him to do something. Trying to get him to save Ignis. To look at him. To see what was happening to him. To help even a little.

Gladiolus hadn't been able to do any of that. He hadn't looked, but Prompto did. He fled with Noctis. He could cite duty all he liked, but he knew what it really was; he'd run away from his friend. He'd abandoned Ignis.

Prompto hadn't. He heard Prompto summon his gun. He'd heard Ignis—Gods, his voice had been so wretched—call out to him, then console him, then make his last request. He wished he hadn't. He didn't want to think of the possibility that Noctis and Prompto were right, and Ignis wasn't dead. He'd still sounded so much like himself, the words, the tone, the sentiment.

Was it any wonder the kid was so out of his mind? The sound alone had been bad enough, Ignis's voice, his gasping, his agony, his body failing. But to stand there and watch it happen? And what little he'd seen…

Gladio stepped back from Noctis and turned the hose off. Dizziness seized him. He was sure that he'd fallen over when he bent to turn the water off, but he found his feet still under him. He needed to sit down, or he was going to faint. That was a laugh. Except nothing was.

"Go inside and take a shower," he said to Noctis, and the prince did so without a word. He walked over to Prompto, who startled when he reached out and touched him. "Come on. Lets go. I need to lie down, and so do you."

⊶⊰⊚⊱⊷

Prompto startled awake, opening his mouth to scream but producing only a rasping wheeze. Where was he? Something terrible had happened. Something unspeakably awful. They had been in the dark. It wasn't dark here, but he couldn't figure out where  _ here _ was. He remembered Ignis's voice, his  _ face _ , and pitched onto the floor gagging and heaving, then sobbing.

A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him up. A moment later Noctis dragged the both of them back onto the caravan's couch. Close by the lightweight bathroom door clattered shut.

"Where… are?" Prompto looked up, blinking.

"Back at the Coernix station," said Noct beside him, then added, "safe," for good measure.

Prompto turned to look at his friend, flinching for no reason he could discern at the sight of him. Noctis's hair hung limply around his face, water dripping into his eyes. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but his towel draped across his shoulders. Prompto couldn't remember how they got here. Had he passed out? For a wild, hopeful moment he thought it might have all been a nightmare. No. The look on his friend's face said otherwise.

The two sat in silence. The shower hissed. That might have told Prompto where Gladio was, but his mind was a sieve and no way ready to take in any such detail. He wasn't thinking about Gladio, anyway.

Ignis.

Gods. He didn't want to think about Ignis. He focused his gaze on the sink, trying to wrap the entirety of his awareness around the faucet. If he looked hard enough at all the smudges across its neck, counted down the exact time between each drip and the discoloration around it's base, slightly green from copper buildup, he might for a moment stop thinking about the greenish black hues of rot that had spread across Ignis's horrifically bloated face.

"Gggggnn..." Prompto clenched his teeth and rocked forward. He didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until his chest started burning, and his body forced him to gasp for air. He stared at the peeling linoleum next.  _ Gee, I wonder what fresh nightmare this floor's going to put into my head. Can't wait to find out! _

"What?" breathed Noct in complete bewilderment.

Oh, gods. Had he said that aloud?

"Everything is terrible," he croaked, then laughed. He didn't know why he laughed. It didn't feel funny. "Hey, Noct, is there an Astral in charge of cheap flooring? We should do the covenant thing with them next!" He kept laughing. He kept talking. He wanted to stop doing both. Why was this happening? His chest hurt. His ribs were splinters. His stomach was sand. His brain was falling out. His mouth kept moving and sounds came out, but he didn't know what any of the words were. Maybe there weren't words.  _ This is what going insane feels like _ .

Noctis grabbed him around the shoulders and wrapped his arms around him tight. "Prompto, please," he begged. Prompto's neck and ear were wet. For a moment he thought maybe his brain really was falling out, but it was just from Noct's hair. "Please."

_ Take care of Noct for me _ .

Right. He promised. He wouldn't be able to take care of Noct after being checked into an asylum. He just didn't have it in him to take care of anyone right now. He wanted to. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Noct's waist and cried into the towel around his neck. Maybe that was OK. It seemed like Noct was doing basically the same thing. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-Imsss…" He swallowed his hysteria. "I'm here."

They stayed that way until Gladio came out of the shower. Prompto lifted his head to see him. He looked like… shit. Just bad. Pale with hollowed-out eyes. He was quiet for a moment, then said, "You should get a shower too, Prompto. If you're up to it."

"Yeah." He leaned away from Noct, who slumped against the back of the couch. All his muscles hurt from the way they'd been sitting. He started to stand, hesitated, then stood the rest of the way up. "Sorry, I just…"

Gladio settled a firm hand on his shoulder, and Prompto rocked on his feet. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

Prompto looked at his feet. He wanted to say 'Ignis isn't dead' in a way that didn't make him sound unhinged. Probably impossible. It wasn't like they could do anything with that knowledge, other than be tormented by it. He went to the shower. Maybe he would feel better after a shower.

He did, a little. At least he felt less like he might start screaming or gibbering or trying to claw his own face off at the least provocation. But he just kept seeing horrible things every time he closed his eyes or let his mind slip. He catalogued a list of every mistake he'd made leading up to and following Ignis and Noctis falling into that pit. It was his fault.

If he paid more attention during the fight, he could have escaped the blast that took down the scaffolding. He wouldn't have been hurt or trapped, and they wouldn't have had to waste valuable time getting to him. They could have made it out before the doors were sealed.

If he'd taken his time and really paid attention to what the things that drew power in that room were and how they were supposed to work, nothing would have exploded. He'd turned on everything, but the backup power wasn't enough to operate it all the way it was meant to be. Of course things broke.

If he was faster at reacting, he could have saved them, pulled them away before they fell. Ignis could have prevented himself from falling, he just couldn't also keep Noct from falling at the same time. If Prompto could actually make his arms and legs move the way any of the others did, he could have helped keep Noct safe. Prompto was fast, but it was only his eyes and his hands that were fast. He should have trained and developed those reflexes into something he could use long before now.

If he'd just pulled the trigger. Maybe Ignis wouldn't be alive anymore. He'd even asked, begged, for death. He should have been able to do that.

Prompto sat on the bed, inadequately dried hair soaking the shoulders of his shirt, and stared at his stupid, cowardly hands. On the couch Gladio was checking over their inventory. Prompto had no way of knowing that the big guy had done so no fewer than fives times already. Noctis sat on the other bed across from him, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. He still had the towel wrapped around his shoulders.

Prompto didn't remember falling asleep. The daylight pouring in through the window was no adequate guardian against the soul-withering fatigue that permeated his entire reality, nor did it protect him from his nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: This whole horrible experience was brought about by the thought "If Ignis were a daemon, what kind of daemon would he be?" I settled on flan, because of cooking puns and they're traditionally magic-oriented enemies. Flan in XV, as daemons (formerly humans/animals), feel viscerally horrible to me, more than a lot of other daemons. For some reason, their boneless, amorphous and completely inhuman state seems uniquely disgusting, and worse than other demons. Of course, daemon anything is going to entail body horror. I don't quite follow the cannon's logic about them, though - do people vanish? Most do… or do they turn bodily into monsters? Some seem to do that too. But I'm here for the horror - so physical transformation it was! Though I think I wandered away from the original idea a little.
> 
> I like the open ending here as-is, but I do have more ideas for this story. So, I may or may not continue it. I'm thinking everything from this point would be a steady recovery/more optimistic, because I don't do well with things that are relentlessly miserable.
> 
> Also, like... I have been super nervous about joining Ao3 and posting anything? I haven't participated in anything fanish in... a long time. :| I am an old, y'all. So if you hated the story, blame my little sister. She's the reason I'm here. And if you loved it, she can have that credit too, because I wouldn't have started writing this stuff again otherwise.


End file.
